Hermione Granger and the Overly Used Fanfiction Cliches
by emberrox42
Summary: We've all read the stories over and over- some well done, others not so much. Now's your chance to see your favourite clichés in a whole new light! Does Hermione live in a family of spies? Is she, in fact, a pureblood? Is the Marriage Law a legally binding contract? Did she get a miracle makeover on summer holiday? Look inside to find out!
1. The Granger Family Reunion

**I realise I ought not be starting a new story when I have so many in progress, but I never was any good at controlling myself was I? None of these drabbles are meant to be serious, so I hope you have a good laugh!**

 **Cheers,**

 **E**

* * *

"Oh look, dear. We got an invitation to the Granger Family Reunion!" Hermione cooed, showing Draco Malfoy (her fiancé) the embossed gold invitation.

"You have a family?" Draco accepted the invitation and licked the lettering, muttering 'it's not even real gold' under his breath. "When did that happen?"

"A while ago, I'd assume," Hermione shrugged. "I get what you mean though. It's news to me as well. My family has been suspiciously absent for the most well documented 7 years of my life. Oh, would you stop licking the invitation?"

"It's how you tell if it's real," Draco defended, giving the paper one last good lick. "Real gold tastes different. I've eaten it before."

"Of course you have," Hermione rolled her eyes, taking back the invitation and checking yes+1.

"Wait a minute, we're going? You don't even know these people! They could make fun of you for your unmanageable hair, previously overly large teeth and bookish ways while your parents stand around and do nothing to defend you!"

"I think you're confusing my family with yourself," Hermione snorted.

"Well, are your parents going at least?" Malfoy sighed, taking the invitation back and inspecting it.

"I don't know. My parents are absent quite a bit. I think they're MI6, posing as dentists. It would explain why they remain suspiciously unnamed even in the most well documented accounts of my life. I too, occasionally make up names for them to fill the gap."

"I am a wizard and don't know what MI6 is," Draco stated proudly. Hermione chuckled and patted his cheek.

"Quite right. Any proper Brit knows that's not suspicious at all. You'd hold up well in interrogation."

"Only because I don't actually know any state secrets. Is this reunion going to be held in one of my hotels at least?"

"Draco, darling, you don't own any hotels, remember? Gringotts and the DMLE denied your request on the ground that it would break the Statute of Secrecy."

"I still don't understand why. 'Magic is Real' is a perfectly acceptable name for a hotel chain. I wasn't talking about _real_ magic, only how magically wonderful our service would be," Draco pouted.

"Still, not a very good name though, is it? You're much better at making broomsticks and banking." Hermione acknowledged. Their foray into muggle business had not gone very well.

"Well, at any rate, are we going to go rub our wealth, beauty, and happiness into your family's face?"

"No! Who does that? We might have never met them before, but they're my family! I'll expect you to be perfectly polite!"

"I'm still not entirely certain your family exists, but I suppose I'll behave," Draco sighed, and Hermione smiled.

"Thank you, dear."

* * *

"Well, this is a horribly awkward affair. So many people haven't seen me since I was a baby. I must have been terribly popular back then. Do you know, Uncle Manfred went on for about twenty minutes about the time he had to change my nappy? To think, people I didn't even know existed have been up close and personal with what's in my knickers!"

"Well, you were cuter when you were a baby. Maybe they all left you when you grew that horrifying hair," Draco shrugged.

"It wouldn't be so bad if Scotland wasn't so humid," Hermione defended, smoothing a hand down her hair.

"Do you know, your Great Aunt pinched my bum?"

"That's a complement, I think," Hermione shrugged.

"Well, have you recognized anyone yet?"

"No, but I don't especially mind. The hors d'oeuvres are to die for. Apparently, since I knew how to pronounce bouillabaisse in my fourth year, that means I must have French connections. It explains m love of French food, at the least."

"I'd buy that," Draco nodded. "I think your Grandmother is French."

"Oh, you met my Grandmother? Who is she?"

"She's the woman in the corner, talking suspiciously into her wrist," Draco declared, and the two shared a glance.

"You know, the longer I sit here, the more inclined I am to believe that my entire family is a governmental secret, and that's why I never knew they existed," Hermione frowned.

"Seeing as Great Aunt Hattie just shot the sommelier, I am inclined to agree," Draco added uneasily. "Where did she say your parents were again?"

"On mission in Somalia. I thought she meant a religious mission, but now I am not so sure. Do you think the sommelier was Somalian? That's just fun to say. The Somalian sommelier."

"Quite."

"Would you like to leave? I find my family committing murder and covering up state secrets to be a touch uncomfortable to watch," Hermione admitted, and Draco frowned.

"But they haven't even served the pudding yet!" he protested, and Hermione agreed to stay.

Pudding was important, after all.


	2. Hermione Granger and the Makeover

**So, I won't always be updating this fast, but I got excited! Length of the drabbles will vary- as you can see, this one is quite short. It also could be interpreted as a rant against people who put effort into their appearance- if it comes off that way, I apologize. I merely wrote this to poke fun at the fics that seem to think Hermione needs to be prettier to be a useful and better character. Shout out to lilrilakkuma, Guest and Dragode for reviewing!**

 **Also, if there's a Hermione Fanfiction cliché you'd like me to play with, drop me a line and I'll see what I can do!**

 **Cheers!**

 **-E**

* * *

"Hey boys," Hermione called, stepping into Harry and Ron's compartment on the train. Harry and Ron stared.

Hermione, apparently, had _quite_ the summer. The girl in front of them was dressed in a pink tank top that covered a well-fitting bra ( Hermione, for all her genius, apparently never figured out how to use a measuring tape before now), a pair of bedazzled jean shorts, and a pair of high top converse-sparkly ones. Her breasts had also grown at least two cup sizes, her waist decreased by several centimetres, and they were fairly certain she was taller too. She wore blue contacts in front of her old ugly brown eyes, and her own atrocious hair had been straightened and dyed two shades darker. Her face was covered in immaculately done makeup that made her look _hot._ In her ears were ear buds connecting to an ipod that played a continuous loop of Evanescence, Fall Out Boy, and Nickleback.

"Oi, Dunbar, would you move?" Hermione called, and the girl in front of them turned to reveal the real Hermione.

"Oh, Sorry Hermione! My ipod just started playing out of nowhere which confused me, since magic and technology don't mix and it hasn't actually worked since I was 11, so I zoned out a bit in shock. Meet you back at the castle!" The girl waved, and Hermione waved back with a grin, moving into the compartment as the boys stared at her in shock.

"Who… was that?" Ron finally managed, and Hermione tipped her head.

"Fay Dunbar. Honestly Ronald, she's only been living with me for the last six years. She loves Quidditch, likes playing beater, is in the Gobstones club, and wants to be an Auror when she grows up. Do you know anyone in your year apart from Harry and I?"

"She's not on the team, is she?" Ron asked, looking at Harry who rolled his eyes.

"Up until last year your brothers have always been our beaters, and we still need to hold try-out to fill their spots so no, I'd say she's not on the team."

"She tried out third year though," Ginny added, coming into the compartment. "She's quite good, but it's not like we could have gotten rid of Fred and George. Why are we talking about Fay?"

"We thought she was Hermione!" Ron explained, still slightly in shock.

"You thought she was Hermione? They look nothing alike!" Ginny laughed.

"Fay is quite a bit taller," Hermione added.

"I just- well, I thought you got a makeover," Ron muttered, embarrassed.

"Honestly Ronald, I assumed you would know by now that saving the world is a bit more important in my character arc then my looks. It's almost as if I was created to be a strong female character for women everywhere to show them that personality, smarts, kindness and heart are more important than vanity. If you think that I would straighten my hair, get implants, and do my makeup just to be more popular, you obviously don't know me or the point of my character. Not that it's wrong to look like Fay- she's a lovely girl that you've completely ignored the last six years- but I'm not going to go out of my way to change how I look to suit other people's purposes. I've got more important things to be doing-like saving the world, defeating Voldemort, emancipating and securing rights for all magical creatures, and getting perfect scores on my NEWTS."

"So there!" Ginny added, sticking out her tongue at her brother and his best friend. "Girl power!" She high fived Hermione and the two left the compartment in search of Fay and the other background Gryffindor girls who wouldn't judge them based on their appearance, as if they were in some kind of overly clichéd fanfiction.


	3. Hermione Granger and the Pureblood Bro

**Hello, my lovelies! It's been awhile, I admit. But, y'know, Midterms...**

 **Anyway, no notes, really. Thank you for reading!**

* * *

"You're saying that you are my brother? I find that highly suspect, seeing as we both have parents who are not, in fact, each other." Hermione frowned, surveying the man in front of her.

"Ah, but you forget that both our parents are extremely vague and easy enough to write out of the picture. For example, all that I know about my mother is that she tends to marry men and kill them for their money. I don't even know her name, and I'm not entirely certain I have a father. I may well be a test tube baby."

"Don't worry. Harry, the Weasleys, the Lovegoods and the Malfoys are really the only people with well-developed families."

"Don't forget the Dumbledores. Their family is so well developed that it would be mentioned in a book within a book," Blaise added, and Hermione nodded.

"Agreed. But I can't help but think if we were to be portrayed in a movie that I would be played by a white actress, and you a black actor. How could we be twins?"

"We're fraternal."

"I'd buy that," Hermione nodded seriously, and Blaise rolled his eyes.

"I'm kidding. If, hypothetically, a book were to be written about us, I would be described as a dark skinned Italian, and you would be ethnically ambiguous," Blaise declared, and Hermione smiled.

"So I could be Polynesian? I've always admired their culture!"

"Not with that hair!" Blaise laughed. "So anyway, when I read our mother's will, because she's and conveniently dead now, I immediately forgot my decades long blind hatred of you purely on principle. Obviously, you're the pureblood sister I've always secretly longed for, so I am instantaneously changing all of my previous, fairly undeveloped ideologies. "

"I appreciate you setting aside your pureblood beliefs," Hermione nodded, "I have to admit, though, it is rather odd when you think about it. I haven't spoken to you…well, ever before now. Honestly, I completely forgot you existed until our sixth year."

"That's fair," Blaise accepted. "Most people did. I didn't even speak for our first six years at school. In fact, Blaise is such an ambiguous name that people widely assumed I was a girl until my sixth year, when I was finally given a pronoun."

"How unfortunate." Hermione declared, and Blaise nodded solemnly.

"Indeed. Now then, because you are a Zabini - not to be confused with a Zamboni- you have to look fabulous at all times. Fortunately for you, I'm Italian, very vain, and possibly bisexual depending on whom you talk to, so I have to be good with fashion. And hair- that overgrown poodle on top of your head has to go."

"Wait, if I'm a Zabini, that means I am a pureblood, yes?" Hermione frowned slightly. "So all these years I've been championed as the figurehead of a politically persecuted group that I'm not even a part of?"

"Well, yes," Blaise hedged. "But you were very good at it. You really represented the oppressed community quite well."

"Why, this is a perfect chance to take my revenge and rub it into Draco Malfoy's face that the mudblood he teased for all those years was actually a pureblood princess!" Hermione cried with glee, experiencing a sudden personality change and need for revenge.

"You shouldn't say that word," Blaise frowned. "Despite advocating for the entire muggle born community to be ostracized, I am now wracked with guilt because you are my sister and will show that I am a good person by banning you from using that slur as your own."

"I'm not quite sure that's how it works, but I'll go with it," Hermione shrugged.

"Now, let me take these obviously placed glamour charms off of you and we'll be on our merry way as family!" Blaise waved his wand, and suddenly Hermione's brown hair turned into glossy black curls, her freckles disappeared, her bust increased, and her eyes turned green.

"Green eyes. Interesting." Blaise frowned, surveying her. "We Italians rarely have green eyes."

"Well, I did get this interesting letter from Theo Nott the other day," Hermione shrugged. "His father conveniently died and left in his will that he was my twin brother."

"Well, his family is rather ambiguous as well. Perhaps we have incredibly promiscuous parents?"

"Quite. Because I've also received notice from Goyle, Malfoy, Parkinson, Greengrass, Mulciber, Avery, and Rowle."

"That is quite a lot of siblings," Blaise acquiesced. "Are we all adopted then?"

"I'm not entirely certain. I suppose we could take a blood test."

"Better plan- you agree to be my sister, and I'll take you on a shopping trip to Paris."

"Who would pass up Paris?" Hermione tittered, and accepted Blaise's arm as he activated his hidden portkey and took her to Paris on a magical adventure. They never found out if they were actually related, but quite enjoyed the shopping trip anyways.


End file.
